The Musings of MAMAGORI

a lullaby..not bella's but aisha's..

2010-11-02T01:00:00.003+08:00

Aisha wants to say goodnight to the world.

And the world replies, "Half of me is day and I shall not slumber."

Aisha then says goodnight to the moon.

And the moon says, "I am always here, eyes wide open."

Aisha then bids goodnight to her tired soul.

It then whispers.

"Aisha, when your eyes doth shut, do you know the places you visit?"

"You approach Mom in her deep rest asking for forgiveness for sins past."

"Your soul then returns to be right by your children's side, asking them to never forget the moments when only innocence envelops the three of you, not anger, fear or emptiness."

"You then inch ever so slowly to him, wondering how lonely he feels, at the same time, yearning to make it all go away because you can't stand to worry if a kin is dying or hurting."

"And then you waltz to the Promised Land, still not daring to walk past his borders."

"But last of all, before you finally slumber, you lie prostrate, in the Light of Him, and you sob a plea for Him to never ever leave you ever again."

I do remember..

2010-08-08T03:46:00.002+08:00

I do remember the day my heart was tugged by a force so strong, I knew instinctively, my world has collapsed.

I had no concrete evidence but it was my instinct whispering a dire call.

I remembered Ernie holding me tight in that cramped staff toilet and I knew the only life I have, would change.

And now, as I approach the moment when the dust can finally settle, my tears are making a headway...they've broken free again.

It'll probably be a few more hours before my mind understands the origin of these tears..

I'm only guessing it's because I'm finally home alone.

As alone as a single lady can get.

Alone. To think. To feel.

I believe, its not loneliness that I'm weeping for.

I weep for a loss, so great..for a family has fallen..and now, like Humpty Dumpty, it must mend itself again.

I'm not relying on all the king's horses or all the king's men..

It's with these two hands, with God Everlasting held close to my heart...

Aisha shall rebuild together again.

ATIQAH'S RITE OF PASSAGE

2010-07-25T01:57:00.002+08:00

Dearest Atiqah,

Here's an open letter for you, my first-born.

Hours ago, at approximately 11am, on the 24th of July 2010, on a day so promising, I brought you into CCK McDonald's toilet, only to find that you are no longer just a baby. No longer, just my baby.

I know you were petrified. You think it's all a mix-up. You cried in my arms asking if you'd ever be able to fast again. And I held you tight, reassuring you that all will be fine because today, from this moment on, you will someday be able to have babies like the way I had you.

That, it all begins with a moment like this, when your body shows signs that it is ready to turn you into a woman.

And now, now that I've finally managed to let you sleep in my arms after I've rubbed away the ache that you've mistaken for signs of bowel movements, finally, finally, Mummy, finds the words to describe her emotions.

Baby,

It was only 9 and a half years ago that I laid eyes on you and you were swaddled in a pink blanket and you looked at me, all blissful and from henceforth, I know, my baby, you'll forever be.

But I guess, at that time, as time stood still, I had no understanding that a moment like this will come.

Yes, I thought it was a rite of passage the first day I sent you in the school bus to kindy..

And then came the day, you graduated from kindy..

Then once again, I remember the day when it was your first day of primary school or the first time you came on stage to enact a skit for Teachers' Day...

But nothing prepared me for this..Your first step in your rite of passage...

Today, as your mummy, I suddenly see a future that may possibly unfold for you.

The day you graduate from formal schooling...

The first day you step out to meet your employer..

Or the day you set up your own business..

Or the day you'll take an airplane all by yourself.

Or the day you packed your bags to move into your own pad...

Or the day you marry..

Or the day that you don't and you tell me you'd rather circle the Earth..

Or the day that you announce that you've found your one true love and that you no longer want to circle the Earth but instead stay rooted where Home is..

Or the day you didn't find that true love but you've found instead a passion that you hold so true..

Or the day you say you are pregnant..

Or the day that you say you'd adopt..

Or the day that you'd say.."Look Mama, I'm all grown-up..."

And on those days, I hope..I will be able to say to you...

Darling Atiqah,

I've tried the BEST way I know how to model for you, a thing or two or more, of what it means to be a woman...a righteous, courageous and beautiful woman. But most of all, I hope, I have had the honour of guiding you to be a liberated woman..for that was what I'd named you..Light of Liberation. And that I pray that I have done everything, to the best of my ability, as your mother, to love you and to receive love from you. And now, it's your turn to carry your own torch, to do by what is right for you and those dear and cherished around you, so help you God."

Today I am reminded again of my duties to uphold, as your mother, while Time is still on my side. Remind me if I forget.

Love,
Mama

In light of aloneness

2010-04-18T12:26:00.002+08:00

Alone-ness.

An art to master.

An art, once, my craft.

Not anymore.

Coz when I look at you.

You appear just like a dream to me.

Coz when I look at you.

I derive inspiration.

And when you are gone.

I can't help but feel alone..and lonely.

Random Rainy Day Thoughts

2009-09-16T20:22:00.002+08:00

Hey the rain was here juz now. It's 27th Ramadan. My official wedding anniversary. According to the Islamic calendar, we must have been married 11 years. He's not here. I'm not there. We are nowhere near each other...at least, not for me.

The Bedok family convenes today. I will come alone, sans kids, sans maid, sans LAKI.

I will reveal THE NEWS.

For what reason I ask myself? To inform, educate, raise funds? Probably to seek blessings. The prodigal child returns to ask for blessings from estranged family members..not so much physical as it is emotional, spiritual even.

And then this heart longs for the blessings of elderly ones closer to heart..the Boon Lay folks. But Yai's dementia makes it difficult to begin to tell the story. He would probably worry himself sick.

So I guess, I do the mandatory Bedok dance..dance with the skeletons in my closet.

I feel numb except for the thoughts of my close ones.

Trying shoes.

Counting pennies.

Drinking water to wash down the searing cut-chillies in my throat.

The motillum sitting in my car.

The thoughts of KL, Malaysia.

My over-pronation. My knee. My back. My aching heart closed asunder in perfect fortification.

O Lord in Heaven..forgive me for a Ramadan marred with distractions. But I believe You will forgive me. Amin.

IS it EVER possible?

2009-06-19T11:38:00.002+08:00

is it ever possible for numb to do itself away?

for dumb to seek enlightenment?

for anger to sizzle, fizzle and then die down?

will there ever be a way for love to find its way?

to undo a lifetime of searing pain

and uphold a future of promise.

tough call.

Ode to David Cook

2009-06-18T21:32:00.004+08:00

hey there David,

ur voice croons de abyss i call my gut

ur voice like sandpaper smoothes all de aches n pains

n i rehearse..'when u find u, come back to me' over n over n over again

cld u add this phrase, 'if u r still in a muddle..leave me alone?'

pretty please,

david,

my soul's male companion now.

and yeah,

thanks.

halfway between a tough cookie and a psychobitch

2008-12-13T09:23:00.003+08:00

is there such a place between those extremes?

alas, The Prophet always says, "follow the middle path."

i'm not seeing it.

try as i might, one either holds back the tears or cry out loud like a hyena in heat!

whilst calling out the name of your lost ones..that is.

on this return path to God, there must be stillness and i suppose, solitude.

one arrived in this world mostly alone (unless of course u were one half of a twin set or a third of a triplet), are almost always in deep shi* alone and will eventually return back to Him, alone.

(oh yes, i will use the masculine pronoun to refer to the All Mighty, much to the dismay of a great number of feminists out there, only because i need male companionship right now..and a 4 yr old son DOES NOT count.)

call me weak, call me delusional, call me stupid..

but as a tough cookie, i only want BLOOD

and as a psychobitch, i want to go down to GEYLANG..

so on this search for that middle path back to God, I can't help but feel human..

I can't help but feel lonely.

I can't help but feel sad.

I can't help but regret.

I can't help but feel that I need help.

So to you, wonderful lady friends of mine, who would at one point or another, read this post...

humpty dumpty is kicking like a mad duck to put it together again..

but it sure is painful..in a quiet, creepy sort of way.

LAST COMMENTS FOR 2007

2007-12-28T12:47:00.000+08:00

TO MY NON-EXISTENT COMMUNITY OF READERS..except for Ivan Chew and his throng of male, female, genderless, gendered but confused, endangered community of followers who worship the cyber music trail and ramblings that he has created...

MAMAGORI PRESENTS HER LAST POST FOR THE YEAR 2007..

SINCE MAMA WILL FIND FOR ONCE AN AUDIENCE..MAMAGORI REFUSES TO JUZ BLOG A REVIEW OF STARDUST? starfish? STARGAZERS? STARBLAZERS?..oh sorry..seastars2007

NOW MAMAGORI wants all and sundry to know that she can get behind a set of wheels and give u a joy ride..only thing...sans a driver's license..but if you so wish another kind of joy ride..that'll require another state letter that allows MAMAGORI HALF OF ALL OF YOUR ESTATE..so now, joy ride, anyone?

NEXT MAMAGORI TELLS US THAT she is tensed thinking that her first-born will soon have to make sure she carries the stone-heavy school-pack ALL BY HERSELF, remember which bus to get on after school as well as not forget any of the books under her table..all these in the spate of the next four days..my baby girl is now a can't-make-up-my-mind-if-school-will-be-as-fun-as kindy..and-what-if-i'm-sleepy-and-want-to-sleep-in-school PRIMARY ONE GIRL..

MAMA will worry with you too BABY...but you-jolly-well-dont-give-me-a-hard-time-when-I-have-to-help-you-with-your-homework-ok???!!!

ok, now a review of the songs on seastars2007..

1) seashoredays was not too bad a start but..er why did it end so abruptly?
2) seanemone is actually an offspring of seashoredays, makes sense doesnt it?..considering seashoredays was cut off way too quick...(psst..MAMA senses a conspiracy here..one song cut off in two so that Ivan gets to churn a nine-track album..or else he can't beat Hady's or Taufik's sales)
3) now, i'm not sure how seanemone is related to starfish..but MAMA still smells a genetic link here ..in the vast world of the undersea, anemones and starfishes may hang together..but THEY ARE NOT COUSINS, I SWEAR..i did BIOLOGY AT A-LEVELS, u know..so IVAN, could u spruce it up a little with the help of some MATs at your ang mo kio void deck? ask them to give u their EDGE..sans ECSTASY or GANJA k..
4) MAMA decides to skip commenting on into the deep and flowing with the waves coz that's what u'll get..flow with the waves and u'll get into the deep and MAMA doesnt swim well..

5) BUT stargazer..now this is something altogether different..coz i think stargazer is NOT a sea creature..it speaks to MAMA..it has angst..it could possibly end up on the airwaves, possibly not BATAM airwaves where all underground INDONESIAN maids are tuning in to..but...it might possibly go on air..if i manage to get a girlfren whose sis-in-law's husband plays soccer with HADY MIRZA each sunday (now, you female fan freaks, dont ask me where ok? even if i know, i wont tell, coz why would i want a queue)..if i can get THE hady mirza, first-asian-idol, to give some Malay Mat lyrics..and change it into his first single released after the win..wah...IVAN..u'll be my next best friend!!!

OK IVAN..hope u like what u read..over n out..coz MAMA has to shed her grizzly bear hair to mutate into a most-normal-tuition-teacher and head to the centre before her manager-husband HOLLERS!!!

OK CIAO BABES!..HAVE A GREAT N HAPPY NEW YEAR, ONE AND ALL..MAY MOST OF YOUR NOT-SO-RIDICULOUS 2008 dreams come true..

i'm wishing for a set of wheels and the accompanying LEGAL license..;)..someone did tell me i could buy one in batam..was it the radio or was it my maid..hmmm..

SUPPLICATIONS

2007-10-09T03:41:00.000+08:00

OH ALLAH..

I bow myself in humility, knowing deep in my heart, my total insignificance, in light of Your Might.

You are the Greatest and for that all praises be raised to You and You alone.

Only Thee, we worship and only Thee, we seek help from.

Please grant my heart-felt supplications:

First, forgive all of my sins, past, present and future. Look not upon my transgressions, realised or otherwise. Look upon me with mercy, O Lord, Most High.

May Peace and Blessings be upon our beloved Prophet and his family and Companions..may we be grouped with them on the Day of Resurrection.

I seek, O Allah, steadfast faith upon the true path, until the Day when all shall be revealed.

I seek from my loins, a progeny of sons and daughters, who will be your faithful and successful servants.

I seek your divine guidance and bestowment for strength through the difficult and challenging toils, as well as, the guiding light in moments of doubt or worry.

However, more so, I seek your divine blessings, for continued guidance when things are looking good, less I forget from whence I come from and to whom I will return.

O Allah, keep those under my charge, safe and successful. Let their endeavours NOT come to naught. Allow them to emerge victorious, so that they too, can carry on the torch, when cometh the time for me to rest.

O Lord, Most Knowing, bestow upon our hearts, my family and friends, love, courage and wisdom to cherish one another, till death do us part, in continued guidance.

O Lord, I seek good health and more importantly, the will, to exert such a find.

O Lord, as you have created all means of transport as a blessings to mankind, grant me a driving license and a car in the near future; one that can accommodate all of my wards and yet, not tear a hole in my pocket, or leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere...and for that, i pray u do let it be a TOYOTA.

O Lord, let my wealth, material or spiritual, grow from strength to strength so that I may continue to work in Your path.

Let all who have been of assistance in my life, thus far, be rewarded handsomely by Your Grace..their kindness is sweet solace.

Let those who wish for harm to come my way, be inclined to do otherwise, for You are the Knower of all things.

Let Jannah be the final abode for my parents, the salihins, and all who came before me, who have fought in Your path, one way or another.

Let the remaining days of Ramadan not slide past me without an impact, for I will truly feel lost..lost in the uncertainty of even meeting it, a year from now.

O Allah, pardon my long-list of 'I wants'...but who else can I turn to?

A last but not least prayer goes out to the man in my life.

May he achieve his true desires to be in direct service to You, O Allah, the greatest bestower. Let his time come, to achieve significance in sweet success for he has been kind to many and ever hopeful.

I thank you Allah for all your blessings on me.

Pray grant me my prayers. Amin

Re-naming: A forgotten tradition?

2007-09-18T01:19:00.000+08:00

My second-born, often called by his middle name, Adi, literally the second of three words that form his full name, is for now to be called Mohamad.

I 'sold' him for S$1 to my own mother on the 14 of Sept '07 because there was a major incident that day. He is now, 'her' son and she has asked for him to be called as such.

Mohamad Adi Putra Bin Mohamad Azman, who had for the last 29 months been called Adi, is somewhat still in a state of confusion when he is hollered by this name..but thank god for the other version of his old name, 'Adik', literally, 'little sibling'..he still seems to know it is him we're referring to.

What prompted this?

The older Malays practised this culture of re-naming a person, especially if they've been hit by some untowardly calamity. Seemingly the older name may be too 'heavy' for that person to 'bear'.

I, too, at the age of five or six, had been renamed Khatijah, much to my dismay, simply because I was always falling ill. I was sold to some relative for a few cents, I think.

On that fateful Friday..Adi's left middle finger was amputated due to an accident at the exercise park..I can't for now, write a description of how that happened...and I shall also not relate the hysteria experienced by all that day..

It suffices to say that part of the sutured finger seems to be 'alive', though there is a small portion that is blackened/dead.

Another visit to the specialist's this Thursday will tell, but for now, saddened and traumatised as I am, I'm only glad that he is still alive.

The thought of ever-losing him and the frailty of all life is unbearable, in light of how everything changed in a mere flash that day.

So for now, I'll pay the price of a re-ordering of his name.

I shall call my second-born by the first in his list of three names.

An honour tribute for all teachers

2007-08-31T00:20:00.000+08:00

Have you ever wondered
What it would be like?
To have to turn the page
And not see the light.

The light of truth
The light of faith
The light of knowledge
Shining through the haze.

I often wondered
Who would make me be
What I had dreamed
And all that I could ever be

It's the bearer of light
The torch that wouldn't quit
It lays in the hands
Of an honourable spirit

For you must know
And you must see
A teacher lives on
For posterity

Her gentle touch
Her commanding soul
Her grace and faith
A legacy to behold

So live you long
And live you strong
My guiding light
My teachers, my knight.

============================

Pelita hati ilmu di dada
Buat penerang sepanjang hayat
Tanpa guru penunjuk cara
Tentu manusia tiada beradat

Adat dijunjung bak permata
Kerana mulia isi dan budi
Telunjuk guru penuh bermakna
Hormat taat tanda mengerti

Hati mengerti budi terlentur
Masyarakat aman maju dan makmur
Jasa guru pendokong amanah
Masakan ia tidak berbayar?

Diminta tidak, percuma pun bukan
Jerih dan payah buat bekalan
Seperti Nabi sanggup berkorban
Si guru mencari redhanya Tuhan

Wahai guru pelita hatiku
Cukuplah Allah penerima amalmu
Kau disanjung, kau dijunjung
Teruskan usahamu sehingga ke penghujung

DRIVING MS AISHA

2007-08-26T21:07:00.000+08:00

5th of October 2007.

A Friday.

One of the last ten days of Ramadhan.

And also the day of my driving test.

Possibly, just over a month from now, I may be the proud owner of a driver's license, God-willing. The anticipation is real...my performance has been erratic...got to do better..

Allah help me, please.

Cross-roads can run parallel

2007-07-24T15:04:00.000+08:00

The new blogging year is fast spear-heading itself..yes, that's how it feels sometimes to me. Time is playing tug of war and somehow it always manages to get a step or two ahead of me.

Bereavement, there had been two. The loss of a dear friend whose friendship ceases to be, as a result of betrayal and alienation. The mourning of another dear friend's life whose sole supporter, the husband, has passed on silently, one mid morning.

And then, there's me who is back in school...IT FEELS GREAT!!! I know I've complained about assignments and papers to write as well as presentations to prepare, not to mention the impending examinations..but oh, how sweet true knowledge is!

However, it's the realisation that cross-roads need not always intersect and diverge so far away, one from the other, immediately after the intersection. Maybe there is a possibility that crossroads lead to two parallel tracks that may someday diverge but for now, I'm happy to say I can see the other track from where I am right now...and that's a huge consolation.

Take care one and take care all...See ya soon..so many books await me, not to mention the seven books in the Harry Potter series.

I'm curious to see what's the buzz, anyway. But only after the exams..only after the exams.

Cross-roads

2007-06-07T05:01:00.000+08:00

It's June again...almost 2 years have passed since the first entry..I read and re-read all of what I'd written and it is somehow reassuring to be reminded of events past. Feels like jolts of life for bits of memory which were almost forgotten and yet, with words written, they are now preserved for posterity.

Alas, the sum total of things that mattered these last 2 years, have been captured in words that embodied their meaning and significance. I'm glad to be reminded that the Tampines home is a fresh start, Haz's baby has finally arrived, not to mention, Jun's and soon, Belle's baby too, Oni still owes me that Malay book and I have yet to write the collection of Mummy stories, though I have finally encashed the $60 SPH paid me for the article. So, a new blogging year has almost dawned upon me yet again, hence my responsibility for an update.

My sister's just had her wedding-of-the-year, the Bedok family is seemingly finally reunited, my daughter's joining a Madrasah next year, the Knowledge Circle has been successfully inaugarated in May, though not much has transpired between us three.

I attempted to join TARA2, though no call had come through.

The brood of TK girls are planning a 20th year Anniversary of Friendship...let's see how that materialises.

I'm planning to travel to Jakarta and Japan, if Allah permits.

All is good, except...

There is a heaviness in my heart. I know this heart does not belong where it's supposed to be. It longs to be free. To be in solitude.

There is no use in looking back to what should-have-been. Another 20 years...or so it seems...to be dutifully subdued into honouring my responsibilities. Had I known that this was to be so, would I have trodden down this same path? I don't know..except for the fact that all of these had been decreed. There is no power within me to fight this.

The only question that remains is what next?

Should I forsake responsibilities in part for the pursuit of personal freedom?

Should I bear the boredom of having to be responsible for the needs of others, only to pacify the self with the promise of eternal bliss, if not further opportunities later on in life?

Do I continue to ignore the stark disparity between the selves?

Do I continue to live not to the eventual fullest?

Do I this or do I that?

A moment's reflection..please

Oh, where will this strength come from?

2007-01-29T23:15:00.000+08:00

Oh Allah, the keeper of my life and soul, I have a burning desire and request of You, tonight.

You have lifted the cloudy veil from my heart and mind, to allow this internal eye to see the journey ahead.

For that I can only, in my most humble and insignificant way, thank You.

Thank you for this bestowment upon a soul despite its inherently marred condition due to infinite personal inadequacies.

However, if Your Will has dictate that I must continue to strive in order to fulfill my sole responsibility as your Khalifah on this fleeting earth and existence, do pray grant me the resolve and fortitude to go forth to achieve success here, to say the least.

Though, the eventual true reward must be in the Hereafter, I seek from Your protection and divine nature, the strength, virtue, courage and knowledge to begin this journey once and for all.
Now that the reason for being and acting has become clear, do guide me from henceforth to the path of the WINNERS.

You are my only source of hope and You too will be my strength before my final return.

There is none other than You and thus I submit…wholly to you and you alone.

Forgive me, guide me and honour me with your divine blessings.

I thank you Allah for all of your blessings on me. Amin. Al-Fateha.

RAP SHEET on R.A.P.E.

2006-11-02T14:15:00.000+08:00

If there was anything I've written prior to this and you didn't bother to read, it's ok. However, THIS entry you might not want to miss.

First things first; NO, I've not been raped, neither any of my family or friends. (God forbids anything of this nature ever happens to them.) The following though, is a true story which I encountered first hand.

Have you ever wondered if something of this sort; rape, molestation, abuse, etc., etc...were to ever befall your children or any significant member of your family, would you be the first to know? Or would a complete stranger be the one to blow the whistle for you, on your behalf?

Today I relate to you, not the details of the crime, but the torrent of thoughts running through my mind, of the numerous violations that this crime has unearthed.

You watch on TV, CSI or some other police-drama flick and the bad guy fits the bill and the victim; a bunch of nerves on the brink of desperation.

And then there was this:

Girl, 14, outwardly unscathed, attending to a mother who wants the perpetrator home, simply because he was all they ever had and 'everybody makes mistakes' and he has promised never to touch that nubile flesh AGAIN. And so the mummy's gone to hire a lawyer who will save her sweetheart though it would be 'kind' wouldn't it, if the police JUST brought him home.

A girl, 14, having to hear, despite his written confessions to the heinous crimes, how little half-sister doesn't seem to know that her biological dad had been really, really bad.

A girl, 14, who has had to see, for the first time in months, the stranger who reported her plea. "How do I react? Do I hug and say thank you to thee? I can't possibly do that for mummy is here, you see."

A girl 14, who has performed so well..that even her Social Worker can't seem to detect..the broken lines that MUST rest within.

Because how on earth can one be 14 and not be afflicted with wounds unseen? I'm not here to judge but I cannot, but not react.

ODE TO MY BIBIK AND ALL OTHER GOOD BIBIKS IN THIS WORLD!

2006-09-15T17:56:00.000+08:00

Now, here's part 2 to a former entry. On a sombre note.

Dear Bibik,

I do not have any misgivings to say this; you are many times more reliable than the family that I have. You see, for a mere $250 a month, you will answer, even if I holler. You will bend over backwards to make sure that my needs, that of your employer, are fulfilled. You will do most things without being told. Even the toddlers I bore from my own womb many a times have not the right mind to do so. They will operate on a 'wait and see' basis. 'We will react only when Mommy is clearly losing her mind!'

You will cradle my toddler when he's ill and I'm at work. You will towel-dry my girl even if she's actually past needing to be towel-dried! You will send my newly-pressed clothes to my room and learn the ways to pair them up. You will even massage my temples when the headaches come.

You see, I have come to appreciate how this body can count upon you to release some of the burdens of mundane household activities. And do this, sans the guilt trips that family members, such as moms, in-laws and husbands inadvertantly give. All these while maintaining the FULL rights to dictate how everything else should be done because I remain your boss. Or forsake that right and leave it completely to you if I believe my brain cells are needed somewhere else.

So, Bibik, truly, from the very bottom of my heart, I thank you for preserving some of my sanity and beaming a glimmer of hope into my already stressed-out life. I will never be able to repay you in kind completely, so be rest assured that when the day comes for me to send you back to your home, my sincere prayers for your prosperity will be with you.

Thank you and God bless.

So how long does it take to realise you can't do without a maid?

2006-09-15T14:06:00.000+08:00

This post is specially dedicated to an ol' fren who DOES NOT want to remain anonymous.

So to Oniatta Effendi, yes, THE Oniatta Effendi, this piece is dedicated just for you.

So how long does it take to realise that you can't do without a maid?

1) As soon as you have to get down on all fours with a rag in hand to mop 195 square feet of floor!

2)As soon as you are the only one left standing at 8.30am with a sinkful of breakfast dishes in the stinky sink.

3)As soon as you realise that you WILL procrastinate grocery shopping as there will be no one but you who will unpack the bags later.

4)As soon as you realise that you're answering your mobile phone with one hand holding your husband's damp underwear and an "I wish we bought that darn dryer!" instead of a "Hello".

5)As soon as you find yourself complaining about the 2 minutes it took to check your baby's bottom for poo because your parents jokingly raised the alarm.

6)As soon as you realise that all those people who promised to help out with the chores can only afford a meek apology when you are screaming at the top of your lungs.

7)Read above again: As soon as you realised you've BEEN screaming at the top of your lungs, enough to qualify for a one night stay at the newly-refurbished Institute of Mental Health.

8)As soon as you ask your best friend to reward you with a grand meal should you survive this madness for six months. ( And you hear her hold her breath so as not to blurt out a reduced time frame.)

9)As soon as you request that this blog be created because you're desperately in need of help!

10)As soon as you realise that there are like-minded people out there who will continue to support, love and honour you even if you can't last 2 days without a maid.

So what else are you waiting for Kak Oni? Pick that dial!

IN THE WORDS OF A GAY MASSEUSE

2006-08-25T23:57:00.000+08:00

Wisdom in the most uncanny places.

In the words of a gay masseuse found at a beach-front restaurant:

Me: So do you ever wish to have a family of your own..be with a long-term partner?

GAY MASSEUSE: Oh you mean, have a family, husband, wife, partner..that kind of stuff?

Me: Yes, that's it. We're opening up a little over here in S'pore, right?

GAY MASSEUSE: Well, everyone probably wants to seek love, be loved and in return, to love. I guess, I would to but you see, it sometimes does get a little complicated. Nobody's perfect, I'm not. But responsibility, that's what it takes to be in a relationship.

Me: Yes, I agree with you. So many things can happen any time...

GAY MASSEUSE: Yes, tests..we're constantly going to be tested..by God, if you believe He exists.

Me: But still, you have not answered my question. Do you wish to be in a relationship?

GAY MASSEUSE: I am in one, the permanent kind. Everything else is not. Transient.

Me: Oh?!

GAY MASSEUSE: You see, I've been in a relationship with God. Since I was six or seven. I've been talking to Him. I've asked Him everything imaginable. I can talk to him anywhere, at anytime. Though I can't hear Him talk back, but He's there all the time. You know, I can even talk to him in the bathroom if I need to.

Me: You asked Him questions since you were that young?

GAY MASSEUSE: Since I realised I was different.

Me: And you're not angry? Not angry at Him for allowing you to be different?

GAY MASSEUSE: No, there can only be Love. Anger hurts, kills, destroys. Especially since we all make mistakes too. I was angry earlier on but I'm 44 now and I can't remain angry still. I'm trying my best. There'll be one last question standing for Him. The day I die, I want to know from Him, if I did ok here, whilst I was on this Earth.

Me: Hmm..food for thought. Thanks so much for taking the time to chat with me. I'd never imagine I'd hear this here..from you. But thanks anyway. Think I've found my answer for tonight. I'll try to remember it.

ON THE BRINK OF LOSING

2006-08-22T18:04:00.000+08:00

This next entry is dedicated to a dear mate who may be on the brink of losing something precious.

ON THE BRINK OF LOSING

Is there really a choice between my Lord and the man whose love resides deep within my heart? My head tells me this is a rhetoric. There is not even a question as to its answer. Darn, it should be plain obvious! Or is it?

How do I tell my bleeding heart to accept the invincible but invisible Lord over this mortal flesh that fits my body and soul like yin to yang? After years of pain and agony over a life lost to love, hurt and anger, now the rainbow after the rain is also fast receeding.

Is this the Lord's cruel answer that there can be no other but Him in my life? As close as my jugular vein?

But what if what I need is mortal love in flesh, in body, in mind and in spirit? Yes, I abide by your omnipresent power, Oh Lord. I have been told to believe that there can be naught but You. But my flesh is weak and my spirit, weaker. I am past broken, more close to disintegration.

If push comes to shove, it would be most likely that I will be led to choose You. But you know Lord, by then, I will be a walking zombie. Waiting for my body to be laid to rest long after its soul has died. It will be a time when only Your Grace can see me through.

On the brink of this losing, You must be true to Your promise that, "Verily with every burden, there will be ease." You must be true to that for I am dying.

MAMAGORI AS AN INSECT

2006-08-21T18:28:00.000+08:00

Should there ever be an instance that this mammal of a kind, Mamagori, ever have to assume another identity as an insect, what would it be?

To my childhood friend, Index Number 24, the following are excerpts from my wandering thought processes. (If I appear incoherent, do not blame me but blame it on me watching Siti's 30-minute engagement and solemnisation, live over my grainy TV3 channel this morning. I still cannot get over the christening of her 'dulang hantarans' with titles from her hit songs. But I applaud her solemnisation dress which looks very much like my own wedding gown six years ago! Ah, good taste? Bad?)

Ok, if this gorrilla of a mother should ever be relegated to a cameo role in your soon-to-be, insect-themed story book, it must fulfill the following criteria.

1) It's got to be the biggest insect alive...I've done some research and the answer is...GOLIATH BEETLE; it is the heaviest by mass (3.5 ounces, 4.5 inches). Granted there would be some difficulty choosing this as THE insect, for the sheer fact, that it is not a household insect. Mind you, it's found somewhere in the Amazonian jungle. I also acknowledge the difficulty of finding its equivalent name in Malay; kumbang goliath? kumbang kembang? kumbang dinasour??

2) It's got to be the smartest insect...erm, now, this would be difficult considering insects are invertebraes, no spinal cords, no brains, not intelligent, full-stop.

3) Ok, ok, if we don't have a Malay name for the biggest insect or the cleverest one, how about changing me into the richest insect? Yes, I know I'm not rich in this life, but in this fantasy world, can I at least be one? How about the bee, with its honey of pure gold? Aisha Lebah?

4) Well, if there is no room for a wandering female queen bee, I don't mind being christened the great flying cockroach, Aisha Lipas Terbang. But on the drawing boards, could you at least give me a nice golden brown colour? Make me fly around and not zit across the gritty kitchen floor? Give me the best brains of the lot? And if I can't be the richest, then at least don't let my character be 'Bygoned' to death, ok?

All right dear friend, I look forward to your maiden attempt at writing Malay children's storybooks. A set of 3, you say? Reserve one for me.

LET'S GET SERIOUS NOW

2006-08-20T21:29:00.000+08:00

I promise no more mushy stuff about husbands and tears for now.

We'll talk about sex. No, not morally-sanctioned sex but the rare, mind-blowing kind. The kind, you know, forbidden lovers make with their young and virile bodies under the make-shift tents by the coastal beaches.

From late last month, there's been an initiative by the social services in Singapore to encourage the sexually active, young Malay Singaporeans to abstain from pre-marital and illicit sex. It is also aimed at preventing virgins from ever-being tainted before their dowries are accepted in holy matrimony.

"LEBIH SEXY, KATAKAN TIDAK!"

So, the tagline goes. "It's sexier to say 'No'."

Is it really sexier to say 'No'? Aren't we living in an era where pleasure resides within the temple we call body? What is there to say 'No' to? Say 'no' because my God tells me so? My parents? My teachers? The health scare? The unplanned pregnancy that will be part of a statistic?

I'm pleased that we're able to at least use the three-letter word in public now, without having to subscribe to alternatives like, "hubungan kelamin" or the remote likes of that.

But will our sexually active young ever regard their chastity as sacred and make the change? To abstain from an act that is free of charge (almost) and extremely pleasurable?

I'm really not sure. The hormones residing within these young bodies and minds would probably need a whole lot more to resist the temptation of the evil serpeant. Unless, maybe just maybe, the temple of pleasure has other treasures worth protecting.

Are there self-preserving values worth protecting? Is there a dream that may be thwarted by a love lost in lust? Could there be love other than from that 'one' receptacle? I'd like to think self-esteem, if not, sheer fear would do the trick.

However, gone are the days where Mommy's threats of eternal hellfire, could be heard ringing in your ears the moment nubile skin grazes another. So, that'll leave us with the re-building of self-esteems lost in hurt, abuse, poverty, hate, anger, boredom, ignorance, etc, etc.

I'll let you in on a secret...

2006-08-18T23:43:00.000+08:00

I was in real, deep, trouble today. The kind of trouble that would make my in-laws curse at me!

HOW?

All of you are probably squirming in your seats wanting to know what happened or what I did, right?

K.E.P.O.

Good for you.

Curiosity kills the cat, the cat owner and Mother Goose too.

But like you, I will be as equally curious if you quietly sidle up to me saying you're about to let me in on your secret, right?

So, what's your best-kept secret? Come now, don't be shy.

You ask, "What's the best-kept secret I've heard?".

That must be the time I found out that my mother was so jealous of an unmarried but close family friend that she told her to stay away from my father. I remembered nodding my head, confirming what I've known all along, that my mother is prone to the NOT-so-occasional bouts of neurosis. That poor lady's done nothing.

"What's the next best-kept secret I've heard?"

That a certain handsome rouge rugby player who rides a Harley, once thought, I was not only intelligent but attractive in a sexy sort of way..Ah, just thinking about that makes me smile a wide, pearly smile.

Anyway, here was what I was about to do no more than a few moments ago...

I hardly have any spare cash at this moment in time but I thought of secretly abandoning everything this weekend; work, meeting, home and kids...and run away on a plane to meet the man of my dreams, literally, the man of last night's dream.

Don't know what overcome me, but to TIGER AIRWAYS' website I went, and almost purchased that ticket..

I admit, I finally admit...

I MISS MY HUSBAND LAH!

Alas, the strong, almost indestructible, MAMAGORI has finally succumbed to her quiet longing for her 'back-up', 'extra pair of hands', 'not-so-crucial-kind' of husband. You see, I finally have to swallow my words; "It's ok bang. No sweat, I'll be ok. Bibik is here to help me."

Husband,
I need you back here now because I've not banked in the cheques from the last four weeks, not mailed the snail mail with our cheques for the bills, can't find the letterbox keys and almost forgot to empty the bucketful of drainage water from the YAKULT fridge at the office. Help, I need your help, that and your tender loving care too.

Where does my heart beat now?

2006-08-15T00:16:00.000+08:00

Where does my heart beat now?

To those who know me, they will find the answer a little awkward.

I'm thinking of my husband, who is away in Indonesia right now. No NOT because he answered, "I want to eat you," to the question, "What would you like to eat when you come home?". I actually had a hearty good laugh to that...MUAHAHAHA...I'll probably see some galaxies at the end of this month but no, I'm not all gooey with love at the idea of sex.

You see, my girl's been missing her Daddy big-time. She had acted out. She had clung on. She's wept like there was no tomorrow, on my chest, wailing, "I want my Daddy. Call him to come home. I want Daddddddddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeee!" Gosh! She even went on a retail therapy asking for 2 pairs of shoes in one night; a wedge-heel open-toed one and an imitation pair of CROCs!

I know this girl is big on EQ. She can't quite always tell me what comes after 26 eventhough she knows 7 comes after 6. But she'll know if you've been tired and all you want is a hug. She knows when I'm really shagged or when I'm just being plain ol' lazy. I know her. Coz I think her heart is suspiciously, a lot like mine.

She's demanding when it comes to my time and attention. She bullies her little brother ever so subtly. She's honest on all matters except where her misdeeds are glaring. But most of all, she loves her Daddy to bits. My husband, is the luckiest Man on this earth because his little angel loves him unconditionally. She rests her face in the pure bliss of his underarms because she says it smells a yukky kind of nice.

Because my little angel misses her Daddy so, my heart beats in tune with yours tonight. Since I can't quite bring you home right now, I make a prayer to the Lord above, to bring you safely home soon.

Good night hubby, have a fruitful business trip, return full or empty-handed to the ones whose hearts beat next to yours.

OF BY-LINES & BLOGGING

2006-08-14T01:04:00.000+08:00

I am happy to announce firstly to myself and then to the rest of the world that....

I'm finally a published free-lance writer of the only Malay local newpaper and get this: there is an actual by-line in my full, maiden, given name...Ah yes, the same name that I had to look up in my birth certificate years ago when I thought I was adopted. This name has done me justice.

Anyway, I'm probably going to be paid peanuts for a job that was not so much for a monkey as it was for a MAMA GORI..but who cares!!! I am published, I am published...(repeat after the tune, 'you cannot catch me, you cannot catch me, nanny nanny poo poo, you cannot catch me')

Who cares even if my article was sandwiched between the obituaries, advertisements by the Singapore Muslim Casket and a large recruitment ad placed by the Islamic Religious Council of Singapore! Now, you hazard a guess as to what I actually wrote :)

No wonder I did not see 'it' the first time around when I bought that newspaper at nine in the morning. I was primed earlier by the correspondent who actually commissioned the job to me that this Sunday, 13th August, my article would be published. However, when I saw Lebanon on the front cover and a mini trailer of how Datuk K's ex-wife received a windfall, I relegated all hope of being published this weekend, to the wind.

But isn't it all the more sweeter? My blogging and writing life has come full circle. Not even Siti, Datuk K, his ex-wife or a Middle-Eastern War, could oust my maiden article from a spot in the weekend paper. Hah! Never mind that it was the 'page 20, 'Al-fateha' spot. I may never be as accomplished as Bom, a bilingual ex-journalist friend or anywhere close to well-loved Mokciknab, a self-confessed has-been TV journalist.

But today, Mama Gori rejoices in her infant steps on a journey of a million miles. That and my discovery that there are cloth training-diapers for my 5 year-old who is still bed-wetting and a divine reminder that death is the only certainty. (I'm morbid ah, everytime write about death! But no choice what, death happened again in the social circle today. But still thankful, of course, that only 3 families decided to place their ads in today's obituaries. At least that confirmed me a spot. Thanks guys!)

THIS IS ME, 'THE MOTHER'

2006-07-21T07:52:00.000+08:00

A good girlfriend said, "This is me, 'the mother'. Not some TV personality or friend...". This, she said of her picture with Baby R, her youngest, latching on for nourishment. Nourishment that only a mother can give to a child. Milk of her own blood, flesh, heart, mind, body, soul. Milk that if given, from a person, other than mother, makes another stranger's infant, one's own.

This as stated in the religion of Islam. The rights of a birth mother will be awarded to one's wet nurse, even when the service rendered is actually a binding contract involving the exchange of monetary rewards. Such is the power of this contact, of this arrangement from one body to another. One, when even if, a life did not originate from one's womb, or from one's ovaries, maketh another life that of one's own. Simply if milk flowed consistently from the mammary glands of one woman into the gut of an infant. That alone, awards you the status of mother.

Wet-nursing, a custom once widely practiced, then extinct is now revived once more in some posh parts of China due to the imitation infant formula scare. Give a human baby, the best of its best; human milk, that is. Not some pasteurised, powdered, herbivourous, non-human, non-highest ordered, grazing, domesticated animal's milk. Or worse, be tricked into levelling scoops of zero-nutrient formula.

Alas, I'm not lashing out on those who have chosen not to feed likewise. Please, no. I believe in the power of choice, informed or otherwise. I only want to draw upon the varied ideas behind these words: "This is me, 'the mother'."

Is it what we do or don't do that makes us a mother? Why would a wet nurse be accorded one of the most honoured and cherished title in this world? Is it the inevitable transfer of one's genetic information from milk to protein that creates a mother and child bond? Or is it the loving kindness and attention that is felt when two completely unlike individuals come together in the privacy of satiation and need? Or is it that rush of relief and comfort that flows with the onslaught of every let-down? Or is it the cognitive awe that one experiences, regardless of class or stature, when one is able to give life and nourishment to a completely helpless being? Or is it the warmth that you feel when the tender skin of private breasts rests upon the fluff of a newborn cheek? Or is it the cosmic feelings that arose as two souls unite; the souls of a mother and child?

I sit and I reflect upon the wonders of this magic. "This is me, 'the mother'...", who will give all of herself and her worldly posessions to nourish every domain in that life she calls her own. This is the mother who will fight all of her battles and demons, internal, external or otherwise in the hope that peace and prosperity prevails. This is the mother you will see anywhere and everywhere in this universe or even that speculated parallel dimension. This is the mother who has the penchant to stand past the last ovation. This is the mother who will pick up all the broken pieces even if her instincts urge her to allow the child, his own foils. This is the mother who will stumble and fumble and yet remain till death do us part. This is the mother I salute.

Stand please, all you mothers and take a bow.

SITI NURHALIZA WEDS DATUK K....WANG..KWANG..KWANG

2006-07-18T10:12:00.000+08:00

I'm part relieved, part mad, that the wedding of this year has been finally formally announced.

Why, from the PR point of view, did they have to go round the merry-ol-bush before deciding to come clean?

Was Siti still awaiting the outcome of her 'istikharah'? Were the glitches of a non-unanimous family vote on the union still being ironed out?

And all those denials!! Sounds a tad like lies now that the truth is out. "Oooh..I didn't know why his family is at my family's place..." "PUHHH..LEASE!"

I would have found it far more respectable, her rights to privacy notwithstanding, that squeaky, clean, Siti had kept congruent to her image and come clean over a matter as MEGA as this!

It would have been a simple, "Yes, we're planning to be united in holy matrimony..it's just that the details have yet to be ironed out."

Rather than all those verbal deflections giving rise to so much controversy such that even her own official fansite had to be suspended until further notice.

All these leave one with a bad after taste..bad after taste.

GOSSIP FERMENTED does not make for juicy details.

Alas, I'm disappointed that her entourage of PR personnel couldn't craft this potentially huge, HUGE C.T. EVENT into something a lil, more harmonious.

OH Siti, my Siti, hope you get to redeem your end soon. And yes, please now don't be a wuz and go all secretive again! Just tell us the gutteral truth about why you fell for him.

REBIRTH

2006-07-14T17:22:00.000+08:00

The blog which I had painstakingly laboured upon, is somehow gone to the wind. Moir does not know why and have given up trying to see what can be done to undo the technical glitch..

So very much UNLIKE LIFE, I will start again...rebirth. (Yeah, I know people claim they can be born-again whatever, but man, the past sticks on to you like stubborn lint!)

Yesterday, I attended the funeral of a friend from a much rather distant past. Last night, today and probably for some time more, life will not be the same.

Have you ever wondered what if tonight, is literally your last night on Earth? No more encores, no more re-dos, no more re-plays..

Six feet under, cremated or even preserved in cryogenic matter, the game ends here. You can purchase another ten dollars worth of tokens for the slot machine to churn your life into action but dead as a log, life ends there. FULL-STOP. DONE.

I thought once before when I lost the LOVE of my life, it meant life was done for. ZILCH. No more. I thought that's what it feels like to lose that last ounce of life. Completely devastated, you think life has ended and you might as well throw the towel in.

But yesterday, past mid-day, when I received the news that Y*** has passed on, this spirited, personable woman, who in part, reminds me of myself, time stood still.

I teach my students this phrase; 'rooted to the ground', my heart felt like that. It refused to budge for a nanosecond as I try not to let all the air be sucked right off my throat.

Impossible! In her prime, mid thirties. How can a person, so big in stature, suddenly in an instant, become part of a set of funeral rites? Unnatural..or is it?

I'm not close to her. She was an individual who formed part of a past memory. And yet, here I am today, rebirthing this blog with her story in mind.

Death is so final.

I laid up all night thinking. How much more awful it would have been if it was an actual close friend's funeral? What is 'Y***' 'doing' now? What if instead of 'Y***' it was me whose lying in that cold, dark grave? Would I know how to face the angel of death who faith decrees will come up to me..my soul..whichever?

Would I have had the chance to make peace or say good-bye to the light of my life? Would I rest in peace?

What would it feel like not to have to wake up and go to work anymore? Or play with the children? Or eat breakfast? Or even brush your teeth?

Then the inevitable happens..I knew I'm not prepared to go. No matter how I had once childishly ranted I was only because life threw a curve ball. Not when death feels this final.

I have not worked like I would live a thousand years more and I have not practised my faith like I would die tomorrow.

I'm not done preparing for that finality. The work must go on. As my darling 5-year old puts it, "She's gone to see Allah, ya Mama. We cannot talk anymore. We bathe her then we climb into the hole. Then we take her and put her in there. We call Papa, ya Mama. We ask him to come back. Singaporeans stay in Singapore, not Indonesia."

"Yes dear, we call Papa, ask him to come back soon. Then we continue to work some more. We stay in Singapore."

I still need to stay put here, alive and kicking.

IF I COULD.. I WOULD

2006-07-10T15:43:00.000+08:00

IF I COULD..I WOULD..

pray five times a day without missing,

go under the knife for a tummy tuck, butt nip, breast lift and thigh augmentation..

fly to the moon,

get a wondrous essential oils massage once a week,

try bungee jumping,

run away with my first true love, (NO, not KS!),

wear make-up,

read in bed all day,

scold the mo**** f***** who jumped the unofficial roadside taxi cue,

swim free style,

start my own talk show,

abandon all my kids for two months to trek in the HIMALAYAS,

volunteer in UNICEF's world hunger missions to AFRICA,

find all of my long-lost friends,

cook an entire feast,

grow young again.

NOW, WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU COULD?

IF ONLY CONFIDENCE COMES IN A CAN..

2006-07-08T09:35:00.000+08:00

We amuse over muses, life coaches, Oprah Winfrey and the likes of those who are able to draw out one's inspiration. We may even pay big money, if not, spend hours in front of that google box.

If only confidence comes in a can, like chicken mushroom soup, my daughter's favourite preschool snack.

I'd buy cartons of it for myself, my family, friends even foe because everyone needs a little of that every now and then, right? "Here, have a can, have some confidence."

I remember those times when confidence exudes and you blow your mind with the things you can do, beyond belief, beyond wonders.

I remember that one time when I completely believed in the wonders of a smile thrown my way from a senior in Drama Class. Out came the magic markers, scraps of scented paper and a heartfelt love poem. My hopes and dreams were sealed in that carefully-folded love letter, with all the confidence that only an eleven-year old could muster. As it turned out, this 15-year old wasn't really smiling at me but at that other tall beauty behind me who supposedly had pledged her sistahood! Imagine that! Misplaced confidence, misplaced confidence. (Shake your head fifteen times as you read this.)

Oh well, this once 15-year old heart-throb still grace my local google box and each time I see him, I chuckle at the thought of that lost confidence. How on earth did I think he was at all smiling at me?

Those who are wondering who this guy is...erm...don't even bother asking. I didn't know what I was thinking. But I'd have to add that he was kind when of course, with a much subdued chuckle, he opened my first ever, honest-to-goodness, love letter. He said, "Do continue to study hard and you may find somebody far better and nearer your age."

Oh man! I took his advice, hook, line and sinker! To save my broken ego and shattered over-confidence, I studied like there was no tomorrow. I came in second in my primary school that following year, beating over 400 other kids in that now, defunct school. Even the government deemed me good enough to top 10% of the nation's entire 12-year old cohort and thus I became a priviledged but green Tanjong Katong Girl.

I've yet to thank K.S. for his 'sagely' advice, though. Maybe, just maybe, someday, I'd be able to brew some confidence in a can and I'm sure gonna TM-label it as 'KS CONFIDENCE'.

MY SCHOOL SONG..A LIFE MOTTO??

2006-06-30T19:15:00.000+08:00

This was what I grew up singing every school assembly day, if I remember correctly, every Tuesday...for four whole years as an impressionable teenager.

I think it has shaped my attitudes towards love, life and living, without even realising.
(Thanks Bom for your blog has unwittingly reminded me of this song.)

Appreciate:

Our School Song

We cannot all be heroes and thrill a hemisphere
With some great daring venture, some deed that mocks at fear
But we can fill a lifetime with kindly acts and true
There's always noble service for noble souls to do
We're not all blessed with beauty nor everyone with brain
But each from every other has something good to gain
So let us make an effort to keep it as a rule
That each one needs the other within the Katong School

Then let us fill the hours with minutes truly spent
In helping one another towards a true content
So let us serve with honour and work for selfless fame
For credit of our country and glory of her name ..

click to listen:
http://www.tkgs.moe.edu.sg/schoolinfo/generalinfo/schsong.ra

CHILLS AND SPILLS

2006-06-30T12:50:00.000+08:00

I woke up at 5 with a jump start this morning. The bones in my body are gnawing in pain. I can feel the soreness in my throat which signals a suspension of all class activities. What good is a teacher without her voice?

My husband is fast asleep on the floor with my toddler. I remembered hearing him come in. He just got back from Indonesia last night . But it was all too far in the distant as my heavy head took over all consciousness. I was fast asleep until this chills took over...

I hate falling ill. Absolutely hate it! It makes me look like a complete klutz who's not much good for anything. It's past two in the afternoon and this head is slowly clearing especially as I start reading. The mailbox is full but the chain of mails from my high school girlfriends have occupied most of my thinking today.

There is that announcement of a baby who's probably on it's way february next year..a new addition to the brood of 11 children already shared between 8 girlfriends. These seven beautiful ladies have been my source of wisdom, inspiration, tears, fears and jubilance.

I'm thrilled..thrilled to welcome yet another newborn. You know how babies are. They are soft, softer than clouds of cotton candy. They smell good even when they've pooed. They coo, purr, grimace and shudder as they lay mostly asleep, most of the days until they become toddlers of course and then it's a different story.

I want to hold a baby for they are peace embodied in a bundle of wrap. They are hope held in diapers and bibs. They are the love and light of the proud parents who bore them into this often cruel and crazy world. For a few moments I want to hold peace and hope in my arms and feel it quiet my soul. So baby, Auntie awaits your wondrous entry with patience.

Then there's the tale of mommies who are at home, who wished to be home and who knows they can't stay home all of the time.

These are the mommies whose whispering hearts I hear. I want to see more such mommies. I want to hear more such stories. I want to write about them and talk to them. I pray I get the opportunity to do so..soon. God-willing. Amin.

SECOND INSTALLMENT TEN DAYS TO A YEAR!!

2006-06-24T19:40:00.000+08:00

Ten days to a year and I'm back again. Wasn't serious the last time about posting but juz got inspiration reading a long-time girlfren's entire blog and days ago, the blog of a Malaysian surprisingly competent in English (Yes, badger me for this piece of politically incorrect statement).

I shall attempt to plant the seeds of blogging. I shall write to the cyber universe and have faith that a lone wanderer shall enter and be attracted. I shall reveal my heart's desires, my social secrets, my wanton antics, to the naked eyes of the Internet and be forever christened an eventual 'blogger'.

Almost a year later, and if anything, I appreciate my own whims to jot down whatever it was which concerned me a year ago..

The beloved flat is finally my humble abode. It was a good decision. No, corrections, it was a great decision. A new beginning has arrived. All aboard as we set sail..

MAMAGORI'S VIRGIN ENTRY

2005-07-06T12:23:00.000+08:00

i'd never thought i'd ever attempt this..but here i am, a day after America's Independence Day, trying to craft my first ever blog entry.

how does one do this?..i've only seen the blog entries of others for the first time in my life just this very same day, but this can't be hard, right? why? i've been writing on scraps of paper all my life..or was it only after that maddening break-up with my first love?..or maybe it was that time when Mom yelled and I thought she was the worst person ever for showing favourtism for my lil' bro and i thought i would end up hating her all my life only to discover that i was adopted? ..or was that earlier still, when i did ask someone to spell out my name so that i can check that plastic piece of document that says, 'birth certificate', becuse i was sure i was adopted..but i couldn't be writing if i can't jolly well spell my own name, right?

whatever the case, friends reading this: NOTE: i'm NOT adopted..can't be..even my 4-mth old baby looks like me and i look like Mom when she was a teen..so, even if the birth certificate did lie, our genetic pools couldn't, i suppose..

anyway, i knew i've been writing stuff from a long time on scraps of paper and notebook which i have never quite put together for i am a klutz at such things..

then there's this thing; the blog.

i think it could document my entries and keep them in order for once. so hey, maybe, just maybe, this will work for me. maybe some 5 yrs down the road, i'll get to flick this page and out of curiousity, see what i wrote 5 yrs ago..what was of concern to me then and gain some insights, if not laugh or snicker at ME.

for the benefit of people who indeed would bother reading thus far, I'm MAMAGORI. a nick i obtained from a Math teacher at the age of 14 because she thought my burly self suited to be called just that. at that age, my full name does sound a trite too serious, something that didn't go very well with my persona..fun-loving, caring, big, burly and sometimes aggressive.

this name has stuck for close to 18 yrs now..and i think it'd do juz fine as a nick here, in this cyber world.

actually, something IS bothering me.

we're planning to relocate to the eastern part of Singapore...and there is this flat...i liked it instantly when i first stepped into it...almost instantly..love at first sight.

and then juz 2 nights ago, it seemed that this pretty, large house which was just rightly prized for my tiny budget, may slip away as i lay embrawled in fear that my present home which has not yet been sold to date will spoil everything..will opportunity slip? will my dream bubble burst into a million other insignificant bubbles?

i freaked out..and almost wanted to quit altogether and juz stay in our present home which was too far away from everything..i cannot bear this failing love affair

it is like love lost. i feel empty. but why? is it because i've been secretly dreaming of fixing up a new home, going round on the looped bus services, checking out the schools for my kids in the area? what? i'm restless. i don't dare make this decision.

Guess what?..mom JUZ called..seems like somehow, she feels my aches and knows i needed her blessings to go ahead with this major decision tonight..thank you Allah for listening to my little prayer for help...thank you MOM for 'knowing'..forgive me for thinking i WAS adopted :)

yippeee!!! I'm buying that home afterall...right now i feel a deep seated sense of peace..maybe this WILL be my brand new start.